


unfailing chivalry

by NotPersephone



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bedelia has a bad evening and gets tipsy, Caring Hannibal, F/M, Hannibal is a perfect gentleman, Therapy Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 01:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19241350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPersephone/pseuds/NotPersephone
Summary: She sighed; she must present a rather miserable sight, the exact opposite of rescuing her evening. At least, it could not get any worse. Or could it?“Doctor Du Maurier, I did not know you were here,” an all too familiar voice sounded behind her.Bedelia pressed her lips together, a thin line preventing them from trembling. Of course, it had to be him.





	unfailing chivalry

She did not know what she had expected from this evening. Nothing exceptional, that is for sure, but the reality managed to disappoint her still.

She did not know why she had accepted the invitation in the first place. It was not like her to frequent such social gatherings, but the idea of a companion for this evening’s party seemed harmless enough; someone to share an engaging conversation with, at the very least.

Yet her “date” failed to provide even that. A fellow doctor, a star urologist in a making, proved to be boring and tiresome, his carefully cultivated, although insipid, good looks going hand in hand with his egotism. She quickly grew tired of his self-praise and the lack of any interesting topics to discuss.

Bedelia treated the outing as a casual thing and, as it turned out, so did he, although their understanding of the word differed substantially. When she made it abundantly clear that she would not be going home with him tonight, his tedious demeanour turned obnoxious at once. His refusal to accept her rejection made her dismiss him at once. Men not able to take no for an answer did not deserve the time of her day. And especially night. She was relieved when he left immediately, not pressuring her further, probably set on finding another company for the night, one who can appreciate his generous “offer”.

Bedelia considered leaving herself, even though the party was far from over, but the idea of returning to an empty and dark home after such an uninspiring event settled with heaviness on her heart. She decided to linger a bit longer in hope of salvaging the wreck of her evening. Reaching for a glass of wine from the tray of a passing waiter, she mingled and chatted, yet the restlessness of her mind and the unsettle in her heart grew. She set her empty glass aside and took another, emptying it almost in one mouthful. It was not like her to drown her sorrows in alcohol, but now she was ready to try anything to silence her thoughts. Another glass and her vision blurred ever so slightly, colours suddenly brighter and voices of the patrons turning to undistinguished murmur, yet, to her dismay, her mind remained surprisingly clear.

She knew the exact reason why she had accepted the invitation. The same reason for all her sporadic outings and mismatched dates. Her futile attempt to find normalcy. She did not know where it came from, this strange notion in her heart that it could suit her somehow. At times, she felt broken in her own singularity. Oddly shaped pieces that would never come together or fit anywhere else. But her sharp mind pierced her illusions each time she was faced with the reality of it. It was not for her.

The amplified hues of the room began to swirl in front of her eyes, and she did not know whether it was because of the alcohol or her own unexpected melancholy. Perhaps, it was both; walking slowly and trying to keep the room from spinning, she made her way to the bar stationed in the far end corner. Almost despite herself, she ordered another glass of wine and sat down, staring at the liquid as if searching for the meaning of life in air bubbles appearing on its surface.

She sighed; she must present a rather miserable sight, the exact opposite of rescuing her evening. At least, it could not get any worse. Or could it?

“Doctor Du Maurier, I did not know you were here,”an all too familiar voice sounded behind her.

Bedelia pressed her lips together, a thin line preventing them from trembling. Of course, it had to be _him_. She settled her armour back in place, adjusting any segments that became loose during her moment of unmerited _weakness_.

“Hello, Hannibal,” her voice unconcerned, she welcomed her patient as he sat down on the chair next to her.

“Good evening, it is such a pleasant surprise to see you here,” his usual excitement at her mere presence felt out of place with her current state of mind.

“I was actually getting ready to leave,” she retorted, Hannibal’s arrival putting the final straw on her disaster of a night.

“Oh,” his bubble of exhilaration burst at once, “Are not having a good time?” he asked tentatively.

“Not especially,” she re-joined, words tumbling from her lips before she could stop them. The alcohol did not dull her mind, but it did loosen her tongue, it seemed, how _wonderful._

She finally turned her head to look at him, owning up to her unprecedented honesty. She waited for him to comment on her state; she knew her shinning eyes betrayed her overindulgence, but he said nothing.

“I am so sorry to hear that,” he offered instead, genuine regret in his words and eyes. His sincere concern made her feel lighter somehow, the bitterness in her heart lessening.

“Could I offer you a drink?” he asked ever so politely, despite seeing her flushed visage.

“No, thank you. I had more than enough already,” she pushed away her barely drank glass.

“Some fresh air then?” he suggested instead.

The idea of the cool, night air clearing her woozy manner was suddenly welcoming.

“Yes, please,” she moved to stand up from her chair, hoping to find her footing sure. Her heel wobbled for a brief second, but she managed to recover at once, adjusting her dress to cover the fault.

She did not know whether Hannibal noticed it or not, but he offered his arm almost immediately. Inclining her head in gratitude, she let her hand slip around his forearm, hoping he did not.

They left the hubbub of the party behind them and exited through the back door, walking into the garden. The quietude of the night and the gentle breeze lifted more heaviness from Bedelia’s heart, even if her mind remained muzzy still. They strolled down the alley between rows of trees, their twisted dark shapes appearing as though they were leaning forward, shielding them from the rest of the world. Bedelia felt strangely safe in this darkness, with her arm around Hannibal’s, his hold firm, his steps certain and the pleasant heat of his body radiating through the layers of silk and wool.

“Would you like to sit down?” Hannibal stopped in front of a bench.

“Yes, thank you,” Bedelia nodded, grateful for the chance of a repose, not wanting to put too much strain on her newly regained balance.

His hand carefully guided her to the seat, his unfailing attentiveness bringing a faint smile to her face, the first one of the night. Hannibal sat down next to her, keeping his distance, but close enough for her to continue to bask in the warmth of his body.

“Your date will miss you, Hannibal,” she spoke after a moment of silence, only now realising her discourtesy of not taking interest in his evening.

Hannibal smiled, perhaps reading more to her question than intended. Perhaps, so did she.

“I am unaccompanied,” he answered at once with a slight tilt of his head indicating that he was at her full disposal.

Pleasing warmth unfurled in Bedelia’s chest, but she ignored its cause.

“A wiser choice at times,” she remarked, another alcohol-induced slip of her tongue, the roots of her resentment still stuck deep.

“Only a fool would waste an opportunity of the evening with you, Doctor Du Maurier,” he declared fervently, making her smile anew. She would normally frown at his over exaggerated attempt of flattery, but the warmth in her chest continued to grow and she enjoyed the sensation.

“Well, there are many fools then,” she observed but without the burden of her previous discontent. She started to feel more like herself again.

“What was the name of the one who failed you tonight?” Hannibal asked unexpectedly, a brief sharpness in his tone.

“Brian Simmons, I am not sure if you made his acquaintance,” Bedelia answered, her mind not at full capacity to question the reason behind his enquiry.

Hannibal barely nodded as if carefully cataloguing the details away. Bedelia’s mouth quivered as she thought about her disastrous date, then the empty bed she will be returning to, an equally unappealing prospect.

“You deserve nothing less than a perfect evening.”

She turned her gaze to Hannibal, looking back at her now, as if she were the only person in the world worth looking at. He always made her feel so safe. And the warmth of his body was so very inviting. Perhaps, she did not have to be alone tonight…

The wooziness of her mind was now favourable as she moved closer to him, her hand reaching out to touch his cheek. The heat surged through her fingertips and she wanted nothing more than to envelope herself in it completely and burn out the cold in her heart. She leaned forward and let her lips brush over his, a trial kiss of sorts. She could hear Hannibal swallowing a groan and felt his body reacting to her at once. Smiling, she pressed his lips against his again, firmer this time. To her surprise, Hannibal pulled away, a strange blend of restrain and regret tinting his eyes. Bedelia frowned, utterly confused. He had always made it clear he desired her and now he _rejected_ her. Confusion turned to upset as she watched him take her hand from his cheek, kiss her palm and place it back on her lap.

“Not like that, Bedelia,” he spoke gently, his face still rigid with self-control he was exercising.

His gaze was so tender, she had to turn away, not able to face him anymore. He was right, but she was not thinking clearly.

“I should be going,” not meeting his eyes, she gathered the hem of her dress in her hand and attempted to stand up, but the fresh air did little to help her steadiness.

On the contrary, the world around her spun violently and she reached her hand back to the bench for balance. Hannibal’s hand caught hers and he appeared by her side with impossible quickness.

“Allow me to escort you home,” he spoke with the same gentleness, making her come undone in more than one way. Her brazenness was gone, she felt ashamed and tired, now only wanting to fall asleep and hopefully forget this evening happened at all.

Her hand rested on his arm with familiar easiness as they slowly walked towards the main gate. Concentrating on her footing, Bedelia did not even notice when Hannibal called for the car. The driver stopped right in front of them and Hannibal’s hand once again guided her safely inside. He joined her then, giving the driver the new destination and the car moved swiftly through the empty streets.

The streetlights became unfocused lines following them from behind the windows, making Bedelia’s head dizzy and very heavy on her shoulders. She did not know whether it was her tiredness that pulled her there herself or whether it was Hannibal’s arm on her back guiding her closer, but her head nestled in his shoulder, finding much needed rest. She closed her eyes, once again overwhelmed by the sensation of warmth and protection. She knew she could fall asleep right here and no harm would befall her. Never one to indulge in fantasies, she considered the notion of this being her reality, always returning home in the arms of the man who cared for her. A silly indulgence, she brushed the nonsensical thought away, but her head sank deeper into his body as she sighed and nuzzled his shoulder. She did not hear the car stopping.

“Bedelia, we are here,” Hannibal’s gentle voice brought her back to the present moment and her head lifted with a start. She must have dozed off after all.

Hannibal escorted her all the way to the main door and waited for her to open it and enter, before stepping through the threshold himself. For a moment, Bedelia thought he might have reconsidered her advances, but he did not move any farther.

“Do you need help getting upstairs?” he asked with continuous care as she walked down the corridor, painfully aware of her unsteady stride.

“No, thank you, Hannibal,” she stopped and managed to look over her shoulder at her perfect gentleman, a striking contradiction to her date in every possible way.

He nodded but did not take his eyes off her and she knew he would stay there until she reached the top of the stairs. She did not mind, not giving him more thought, too exhausted and focused on getting to her bed. She thought she heard the front door close as she got the door of her bedroom, but she might have imagined it. It did not matter; she eagerly pressed the doorknob and stumbled inside. She took off her shoes and dress, discarding them on the floor without much regard, then pulled back the covers of her bed and slid beneath the pleasantly cool sheets. Her head sank into the pillow and she drifted away instantly, welcoming the oblivion of sleep.

 

It was almost noon when she woke up the following day, bright light exploding in bursts behind her eyelids, her head as if splitting open by a throbbing ache, the anticipated aftermath of her overindulgence. Soon the haze of her long sleep lifted, bringing awareness and all the events of last night rushed through Bedelia’s mind. She groaned; she remembered everything. Deciding to leave the mental pity party for later, she managed to sit upright, then made her way to the bathroom, washing away the external fatigue of the evening.

Dehydration still raving havoc in her head, she slowly walked downstairs to get a glass of water. The kitchen looked just as she had left it, but when she opened the fridge her eyes fell on unfamiliar items. A freshly made frittata, waiting to be reheated, and a glass of a muddy looking substance, with a note attached to its front.

Bedelia reached for the piece of paper, the familiar elegant cursive filling the sheet.

_For the headache._

_Hannibal_

Did he stay to prepare all of this for her late last night? The same warmth she had felt yesterday returned to her chest as she smiled, her eyes tracing each letter of his name. She put the note away and took the glass, eyeing the contents suspiciously; it smelled _earthy_. But she looked back at the note; she trusted Hannibal’s intentions and expertise. And she would rather stay away from pain medications, having put her body through enough last night. With that in mind, she took a tentative sip; it tasted as revolting as it looked, but she managed to keep it down. Yet despite the bad taste, the drink brought some relief to her head. Slowly, she forced herself to drink it all.

Soon, her headache was gone, and she felt strangely refreshed, lighter than she felt in days. She ate the frittata with gusto, suddenly famished; it was delicious, as expected. Her body revived, she wished she could say the same about her mind, the discomfiture of last night still pressuring on her heavily. She knew she had to make amends; she dreaded the next session.

 

Their hour passed quickly in an uneventful manner; Hannibal retained his usual composure and the conversation did not strain from the obvious. As always, the actual revelations were left for their after-session wine interludes; Bedelia often wondered if they were the real sessions. Yet this time it was not Hannibal who had something to divulge.

“I want to apologise for my behaviour the other night,” she spoke before the wine settled in their glasses pulling the band aid of her embarrassment in one quick motion.

“There is nothing to apologise for, Doctor,” his fingers stroking the stem, Hannibal’s gaze lifted from the glass and rested on her with reassurance.

“No, there is,” she persisted, her cheeks burning, “It was very _unprofessional_.”

Hannibal’s lips twitched in silent disagreement; it was not something he concerned himself with. But he allowed her to retrieve in the comfort of her presumed rules, patiently waiting for her at the non-existing borderline.

“And thank you for looking after me,” she continued, now blushing fully as she recalled the comfort of his arms and the hangover remedy.

“It was my _pleasure_ ,” he inclined his head, smiling widely, and she had no doubt he was prepared to do anything for her.

They finished their drinks in silence and Bedelia accompanied Hannibal to the door. He was about to leave when she finally gathered to courage to voice the most personal of her admissions.

“Thank you again, Hannibal. For being a gentleman.”

His hand stopped above the doorknob and he turned to look at her with certain puzzlement.

“It was only natural,” he declared as if no other option had existed.

The warmth returned afresh, this time expanding down and settling in her lower abdomen.

“I had only wished you had a more enjoyable evening,” Hannibal continued.

“It ended up being rather pleasant,” she said truthfully, smiling at him.

Hannibal beamed back at her.

“I do hope to get a chance to show you how it should be done. A proper evening with a proper ending,” his eyes gleamed purposely.

The warmth in her belly simmered, turning to intense heat; she liked that idea. Taking a step closer, Bedelia leaned forward and placed a kiss in the corner of his mouth, a wordless assurance.

 _We will_ , it said.

Hannibal smiled again, then looked away, almost bashful as if savouring her caress, before finally reaching for the door. Bedelia watched it close behind him, relishing the heat radiating in tingles of anticipation beneath her skin.

She sensed the pieces falling in the right place with remarkable ease. It was not normalcy that she needed. It was something completely different.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me out of the blue and I just loved it so much, I had to write it right away.  
> The "headache cure" is not real, just something I saw in the movie once (Rene Russo's character drank it in The Thomas Crown Affair, I still don't know what it was).  
> Thank you for reading ♥ Hope you liked it! If you did, please let me know, I'd love some comments or random fangirling noises.


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